Page 16 of Clashing

Chapter eleven

Keeping Tabs

Ryker

T he sun beat down hot enough to melt the walls.

Heat waves radiated in the distance, and businesses advertised air conditioning inside.

I almost took up the offer of the store I slouched against for ice-cold lemonade.

I cursed myself for wearing a black T-shirt that enhanced the already unbearable heat.

Sweat dripped down my neck, and I checked my watch.

Any minute now.

I ran my hand through my hair, annoyed the action coated it in sweat. I fucking hated summer. A little bell dinged, alerting me that someone had exited the shop. I glanced to the right and found it wasn’t my hit. It was a woman.

Normally, she’d be my type. Curves, a bright smile, and pretty eyes. Except she did nothing for me. Not even when she batted her eyelashes. Scarlett never batted her eyes at me. Scarlett’s eyes were easier to get lost in.

Annoyed, I tore my gaze away and clenched and unclenched my fist. One look at a girl, and my thoughts ran back to Scarlett. She had no right to occupy so much space in my head, but I couldn’t get her off my mind.

The bell dinged again, and out shuffled an elderly woman. Her walker scraped the ground as she hobbled to the traffic light, hitting the button to cross. Any other day, I’d offer to help her, but I couldn’t leave my post.

Another ding, and the door swung open. This time, a shaggy-haired asshole stepped out, a Danish pinched in his teeth, a coffee in one hand, and his phone in the other.

Bafflingly, my bounties either seemed to be drastically unaware of how easy they were to find or went to incredible lengths to keep themselves hidden.

There was no in between. This guy was plain stupid.

I reached into my pocket and retrieved the picture, confirming it was him by the scar on his left cheek and the tattoo on his hand that read his last name— Harvey .

Stuffing the photo in my pocket, I followed him. Idiot was oblivious to my presence. Pocketing his phone, he chewed his Danish and paused at a streetlight. I stopped beside him.

“That you, Jerry?” I asked.

His expression went blank. Some of them made this so easy, it hurt. “Uh, yeah.” He faced me with a frown. “Sorry, man, your name’s escaping me.”

“Come on, Harvey, don’t tell me you don’t remember me?”

I needed him to not deny the last name, and then I could make my move.

He rubbed his chin. “Did we go to high school together?”

“Nah, Jerry, we didn’t.” I smacked the Danish and coffee out of his hands before pinning his wrists behind him and cuffing them. “You missed your court date for that assault and battery case with your ex. Let’s go.”

I ushered him forward, expecting a fight.

These dumb motherfuckers must have some handbook on how to fight against a bounty hunter because they all tried the same thing.

I saw it coming and gripped the nape of his neck before he threw his head back.

I wasn’t surprised at his next move. He crouched to escape my hold, and I let him.

Then I shoved him to the ground, and he fell face-first onto the pavement.

“I can do this all day, Jerry,” I warned, grabbing the cuffs and yanking him up. “Either way, you’re going in, so I suggest you make it as painless as possible.”

“Fucking twat,” he spat.

Eh, I’d been called worse.

Jerry was an annoying little shit. Tried to get in my head by calling me names, asking for a fight. I laughed. Scrawniness didn’t intimidate me. I could knock him out with one hit.

I got him to the police station, and they booked him while I waited for Conrad to arrive.

I tapped my fingers against the counter near the reception desk, glancing at the door every time it opened.

Usually, I didn’t wait for Conrad, but he happened to be in the area.

He had a previous check for me and promised to give me the one for Jerry as well if I sat tight.

Finances weren’t an issue, but I had a buddy who was struggling.

I planned to send him the money to help him out.

An easygoing grin spread over my face when a familiar man rounded the corner from behind the desk. Ray had rich brown skin, barely any hair, a potbelly, and the best sense of humor. He approached the counter with a cup of coffee. “Ryker, hey.”

“How’s it going, Ray?”

I was grateful for Ray. Some police officers had a problem with bounty hunters, but he didn’t.

“Doing good, doing good.” He slapped a newspaper on the laminate counter. “Who you bring in today?”

“Jerry Harvey.”

“Oh, that piece of shit.” He took a gulp of coffee. “Glad to have him locked up again. How you been?”

“I’m good. How’s the family?”

“Good. Jada is turning thirteen this weekend. Can you believe that?”

I couldn’t. The last time I saw Jada, I was pretty sure she was only ten.

“How’s thirteen turning out for you?” I asked, aware Jada had a rebellious streak since she was a baby.

“Lord help me, Ryker, it’s not easy. She’s full of eye rolls and whatever Dad comments. It’s driving me nuts. I love her to death, though.” He grinned. “What about you? Any chance you’ll settle down soon?”

“I don’t intend to. You know that.”

“It’s a shame. A real shame. There’s nothing like having your woman by your side as you get older. You mean to tell me not one girl has caught your eye?”

Only one giant pain in my ass. He didn’t need to know that. Though thinking of her reminded me . . . A quick sweep of the room showed no one nearby, but I still lowered my voice. “If I give you a name, can you tell me who they have a restraining order against?”

“Not legally.” Ray peered at me over the computer he shuffled in front of, hands hovering over the keyboard. “But out of curiosity, what’s the name?”

My lips twitched up. Knew I could count on him.

“Scarlett Solis.”

His smile widened as he typed. “Oh, so there is someone.”

“It’s nothing. A friend’s niece. I’m doing him a favor.”

As I said the words, I got that feeling—the muscles in my neck tightening.

The urge to avoid eye contact. The same sensation I experienced anytime I lied.

I hated that feeling. But I wasn’t lying.

It was nothing. Maybe I half lied because I didn’t intend to share the information with Danny, but I was doing it for Scarlett’s safety, which was technically for Danny.

Yep. That’s all.

Ray swiped his coffee and took a sip. “Do you know a birthdate?”

“No. She used to live in New Mexico, now lives in California.”

He nodded and typed into his computer, then scrunched his face. “Can you give me anything else? Solis is a common last name.”

“I don’t know.” I racked my brain for what her mother’s name was. Danny had said it before. I remembered it being something with a D . “Diana is the mother’s name. I’m pretty sure.”

“That helps.” The keys clicked fast under his fingertips. “I think I’ve got her. A restraining order against a Todd Haverson for . . .” He frowned. “You know what this is for?”

I knew a hell of a lot more than that report said. “Assault and battery, bad enough to put her in the hospital. Should also mention something about him contacting her recently.”

“Right.” Ray nodded. “I do have a note from the parole officer saying he texted her, wrote her a letter, and called her. You planning to do something about this?”

“Don’t worry, Ray.” I patted the countertop. “I’m not making you an accomplice to anything. I only wanted the information. I got some buddies in New Mexico who can keep tabs on him and let me know if he leaves the state. That’s all I want. Fair warning if he tries to come here.”

“In that case, tread carefully. It might be pertinent for you to know he has two registered guns, and this isn’t the only restraining order he has against him.”

Of course it wasn’t. It never was with these kinds of assholes. The guns didn’t scare me. I rarely didn’t have a gun on me, and I was confident after being a Marine for eight years that he couldn’t possibly be a better shot than me.

“Don’t worry, Ray,” I said. “If he comes around, I can handle him.”

Handle him by beating the shit out of him until he doesn’t know his name anymore.

Another officer walked in, and Ray quickly closed out of his window, picking up the conversation about his daughter like we were right in the middle of it. This was why Ray was one of my favorites.

After Conrad finally showed and paid me, I stepped outside and called Dustin, a friend in New Mexico who I’d toured with. He didn’t answer, so I left a message.

I didn’t intend to go to the bar until the weekend.

The moment I stepped inside, Scarlett would suck me in.

Yet somehow, after the police station, I ended up parked in the familiar dirt lot and cursed myself while I pondered this unrelenting hold she had over me.

She had me caught in a lightning storm, too dangerous to stay in but too beautiful to look away from.

She was a bigger pain in my ass than anyone had ever been. That was the only thing different. At least, that’s what I told myself.

The bar door creaked, and I spotted Scarlett sitting alone, drawing. Ignoring her would be the wise thing to do, but noting Danny’s absence, I stopped at her table and grabbed a chair. A loud scrape announced my presence. She looked up. Red stained her cheeks when I settled on the chair.

“Hey.” She caught her lip between her teeth. “It’s not the weekend.”

“Am I only allowed to come on the weekend?”

She scoffed. “Obviously.”

My sarcastic retort never came. My eyes widened at her work. While nails digging into a muscled back wasn’t elaborate, that’s not what reduced me to awed silence.

It didn’t resemble a drawing. The shading and clean lines gave it more of a black-and-white photograph feel.

Jaw hanging open, I watched as she made it come more alive with every scrape of her pencil.

Part of me wondered if that’s what it looked like when she did that to me while I thrust into her.

Shit. Less than five minutes, and I already had to adjust myself.

I scrubbed my hand over my face. “That doesn’t look like a drawing.”

Brows pinched together, she tilted her head.

“I mean, because it’s so good, it looks like a photograph.”

“Oh.” Her shoulders relaxed, and a smile played on her lips. “Thanks. My anatomy’s a little rusty. I’m not as good as Cath Riley, but,” she shrugged, “I try.”

“I have no idea who that is.”

“She’s my favorite artist.” Scarlett lunged for her phone, tapped the screen, then turned it toward me. “She does super realistic drawings. The reason I got into art in the first place. She’s my idol. It’s my dream to go to one of her shows.”

Her screen showcased a photo of a hand gripping a thigh. Except it said it was a charcoal drawing, not a photo. Impressive. Though I disagreed with her.

I returned the phone. “I think you’re just as good, sugar.”

“Sure you do.”

“I do .”

“Do you know anything about art?”

Like I said, goddamn pain in my ass.

I dragged my tongue over my teeth. “You wanna take this argument upstairs?”

A smirk formed at her parted lips and dilated eyes. I leaned over the table, and her gaze darted to my mouth. My ringing phone interrupted our moment, and when I retrieved it, Dustin’s name flashed across the screen.

“Is Danny around?” I asked, standing.

“I’m supposed to have dinner with him.”

“And after dinner?”

“After dinner,” she gazed up at me with those bedroom eyes that annihilated my self-control, “I guess I’d like dessert, but not with him.”

“Jesus Christ.” She too easily got me where she wanted me. “I’ll get you dessert, baby.” I hooked my finger on her shirt collar and tugged. “I gotta take this.” I held up my phone, then trudged outside so she wouldn’t hear.

I accepted the call, and during the small talk greeting with Dustin, I watched through the dusty windows as Scarlett picked up her pencil and brought it to paper. Pushing her hair out of her face, she left a streak of black across her cheek.

“Everything okay, Ryker?” Dustin asked.

“Fine.” Try as I might, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from Scarlett. There was no way in hell that fucker was getting his hands on her again. “I need you to do something for me. You got a pen to write down this name?”